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Primero que nada tomese un momento y compruebe: ¿Cómo esta su cuerpo sintiendose en este momento? Si usted es generalmente sano, hagase unas preguntas como estas: 
  • ¿Está sintiendo su cuello tenso?
  • ¿Siente un fuerte dolor en la parte baja de su espalda?
  • ¿usted sufre de muchos dolores de cabeza?
Ya sea que usted esté experimentando algun síntoma físico, ó el más preocupante stress de una enfermedad grave, o simplemente por la curiosidad de querer saber como podría maximizar su vitalidad y longevidad, es que me siento emocionado de compartir con ustedes algo que nunca me enseñaron en la escuela de medicina.

Nuestro cuerpo sabe como curarse a sí mismo, sabías? vamos a ayudarle un poco a acelerar este alivio total
Nuestro cuerpo está muy bien equipado con mecanismos de auto-reparación naturales que están bajo la influencia de los pensamientos, sentimientos y creencias que se originan en nuestra mente.
Mi amigo hay algo que aunque usted no pueda creerlo es así y esta comprovado!.
Nuestro cuerpo sabe como matar a las célular cancerosas, fijar proteínas, retrasar el envejecimiento, eliminar toxinas, infecciones y puede deshacerse de cuerpos extraños que acaban ingresando a nuestro organismo.
Él consigue mantenernos saludables el tiempo todo. Las cosas van mal y las enfermedades se manifiestan cuando estos mecanismos de auto-reparación no estan funcionando correctamente.
Pero aquí viene lo bueno. Su sistema nervioso tiene dos sistemas operativos -- la "lucha o el escape" como respuesta de estrés dominado por el sistema nervioso simpatico y la respuesta de relajación dirigido por el sistema nervioso parasimpático.

Pues debemos saber que el sistema nervioso dá una respuesta de relajación sólo cuando están funcionando los mecanismos de autorreparación de nuestro cuerpo!, Ing. Miguel Santisteban
Las respuestas de estrés están ahí para protegerlo en caso de que un tigre lo persiga. Pero en estos días, estamos bastante seguros de tigres, sin embargo nuestras respuestas de estrés disparan, en promedio, más de 50 veces al día. ¿Cómo?, pues esto se explica de la siguiente forma mis queridos lectores, nuestro cuerpo amigdalino felinamente percibe los pensamientos negativos, creencias y sentimientos, como miedos, preocupaciones financieras, relaciones amorosas preocupantes, estrés laboral, soledad o hasta pesimismo, como unas amenazas igualmente temibles como un tigre. Entonces BOOM, nuestro cuerpo amigdalino miedoso se pone en alerta roja, y cuando esto sucede, el cuerpo no puede repararse a sí mismo. No es de extrañar que cualquier uno que este en estas condiciones se enferme rapidamente!.

Usted no puede quedarse a merced de sus respuestas al estrés. Puede ser una persona proactiva y poner en practica la activación de los mecanismos de auto-cura de su cuerpo. Pruebe estos pasos científicamente comprobados como una estrategia de prevención de la salud, o como tratamiento para cualquier condición de salud en la que usted estuviera luchando por salir.
Bueno sin más ni más, comencemos a ejercitar estos 6 pasos increíbles:

1. Primer Paso: Creer fielmente que puede curarse a sí mismo

No creen que la creencia positiva puede curar nuestro cuerpo? !Piensen otra vez! El sistema médico ha ido demostrando por más de 50 años que la mente puede curar el cuerpo mis queridos lectores. Lo llamamos de "efecto placebo", y se ha demostrado que causa el desaparecimiento de los síntomas y cambios fisiológicos reales en el 80% de los pacientes que se someten a ensayos clínicos que se tratan simplemente con pastillas de azúcar, inyecciones de solución salina o cirugías falsas.
Siempre que usted crea que su condición es "incurable" ó "crónica", lo será!
Usted no cree que su estado de salud se podría resolver? Puede revisar el proyecto de remisión espontánea, una recopilación de más de 3.500 casos de estudio que demuestran que la remision espontanea se ha manifestado para casi todas las enfermedades puesta a prueba en cáncer en fase 4, VIH, diabetes, presión arterial alta, enfermedad de la tiroides, enfermedades autoinmunes, incluso una herida de bala en la cabeza no tratada.  
Por mi mente escéptica, leer acerca de todos estos estudios de casos ha sido un paradigma. Es algo así como la historia de la milla en 4 minutos. Los fisiólogos del ejercicio solían pensar que el cuerpo era fisiológicamente incapaz de correr una milla en menos de 4 minutos -  y asi ningún atleta lo logró. Hasta que en el año 1954, Roger Bannister corrió una milla completa en 3 minutos y 59 segundos. Una vez que la creencia limitante se añicos, virtualmente cada atleta que compite en un evento de clase mundial donde se recorra 1 milla, lo hace en menos de 4 minutos. Actualmente el tiempo récord mundial es de 3:43:15, más de 15 segundos por debajo de los 4 minutos planteados por los expertos fisiólogos.
¿Qué pasaría si su creencia de que el cuerpo no puede curarse a sí mismo es como la creencia de los fisiologos en el proyecto de una milla en 4 minutos?
En algunas historias alucinantes sobre cómo la creencia positiva puede afetcar radicalmente nuestra salud, hay pruebas científicas de que usted puede curarse a sí mismo. Los datos cientificos demuestran que una vez que usted cree realmente que la curación es posible, esta se vuelve posible. Entonces, usted que cree?  

2. Segundo Paso: Encuentra el apoyo adecuado!

Decir que se puede curar a sí mismo es una especie de frase inapropiada, mejor que eso y con la comprobación científica se puede asegurar que sintiendo en tu cuerpo la creencia positiva enriquecedora de un verdadero sanador, alguien optimista que comparte su creencia positiva, se comprende a sí mismo, respeta su intuición y se preocupa por su bienestar; te aseguro que conseguirás nunca estar sólo en tu viaje de auto-sanación.
Y ahora ¿ya tienes tus medicamentos correctos en tu equipo de salud?  


3. Tercer Paso: Escuche a su cuerpo y a su intuición!

Nadie conoce mejor su cuerpo que usted mismo, nisiquiera un médico. Los médicos pueden saber las arterias de la pierna o la anatomía de los órganos mejor que usted, pero usted sabe lo que  es mejor para su propio cuerpo mejor que nadie. 
Exactamente mi querido lector, su cuerpo es de hecho su negocio. Así que comience a escuchar a su intuición y confíe en lo que ella le dice. 
No esta en contacto con su intuición? Pues bien, escuche a su cuerpo, él es un vehículo que su intuición utiliza para hablar con usted. Si usted tiene una sensación física en su cuerpo como: dolor, opresión, náuseas, mareos - pregunte a su cuerpo lo que está queriendole decir; entonces escuche!. Esta vez la voz de sabíduría interior siempre le llevará directamente a su verdadero norte geográfico.

4. Cuarto Paso: Diagnóstico de las causas fundamentales de su enfermedad!

Su médico le puede dar varios tipos de diagnóstico - desde una simple migraña, hasta el diagnóstico de un cancer de mama por ejemplo. Pero el verdadero tipo de diagnóstico, con esto me refiero a la raíz de esa enfermedad, esta se encuentra en las respuestas de estrés que han desactivado los mecanismos de autocuración de su cuerpo, con lo cual este se encuentra vulnerable a cualquier enfermedad. 
¿Qué respuestas de tu vida estan activando sus respuestas al estrés?  
¿Qué respuestas de relajación que inducen actividades como meditación, expresión creativa, risa, participación en el trabajo que le gusta, yoga, jugar con animales, ha estado descuidando?
La enfermedad suele ser una llamada de atención, que nos obliga a bajar nuestras revoluciones y sumergirnos en lo que es realmente cierto en nuestras vidas. Nosostros podemos jugar a hacernos la víctima o podemos utilizar la enfermedad como una oportunidad para despertar. 
Ahora si usted amigo está luchando con un problema, sabe como podria reconocer el origen del mismo?

5. Quinto Paso:Escriba su prescripcion por sí mismo:

Esto no va a ser el tipo de receta que se llena en una farmacia o en un consultorio médico, aunque ciertamente puede incluir elementos de la medicina occidental. Este es un plan de acción autoguiado destinado a hacer que su cuerpo se predisponga a una salud óptima y a su recuperación completa.
Así que preguntese "¿qué hago para que mi cuerpo se pueda curar", su receta puede incluir cambios en la dieta, un régimen de ejercicios y un plan de tratamiento médico convencional. Pero también puede incluir salir de una relación tóxica, renunciar a un trabajo de almas que esten aspirandolo, añadiendo una práctica de meditación, hablar de medidas para salir de una deuda, o seguir una pasión.
Sea tan específico como pueda para crear su prescripción, luego reuna todo el valor para poner su plan en acción!.

6. Sexto Paso: Entrega y apego a los resultados:

¿Qué pasaria si usted ha adoptado una actitud positiva, encontró un buen sanador, ha explotado ligeramente su intuición y su cuerpo, ha diagnosticado la causa de su estado de salud por escrito en su prescripción y esta poniendola en acción, pero todavía esta enfermo? ¿está haciendo algo mal? ¿es su culpa, todavia esta enfermo?
 Por supuesto que no mis amigos eso no es cierto, en ningun momento existen culpas de nadie. La culpa o la verguenza para alguien en un viaje de sanación sólo hace que se activen las respuestas que dañan el cuerpo. Pero entonces, ¿Cuál es el problema? Aquí es donde llega el momento de entrar en el apego al arte. Algunos pacientes hacen todo "correcto" y reciben los resultados espontáneamente. Pero otros son el coro de estos pasos y todavía estan enfermos. ¿por qué pasa eso?. Sinceramente compañeros, no lo sé. La única respuesta real esta en el lado espiritual. Talvez nuestras almas vienen aqui a la tierra para aprender lecciones y la enfermedad puede ser una practica espiritual, una forma de aprender nuestras lecciones de vida y una parte del destino de nuestra alma. 
Lo que puedo si asegurar es que si has seguido los 6 pasos antes mostrados, usted ha ofrecido todo su poderpara que su cuerpo se predisponga a milagros - y el resto esta fuera de sus manos. 
Así que lo mejor que te puedo aconsejar es que tomes una respiración profunda, confía en el universo, no te entregues a ningún resultado particular de salud cierra los ojos por 5 minutos  y dejate llevar hasta un despertar espiritual. 

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This midnight-spout had almost grown a forgotten thing, when, some days after, lo! at the same silent hour, it was again announced: again it was descried by all; but upon making sail to overtake it, once more it disappeared as if it had never been. And so it served us night after night, till no one heeded it but to wonder at it. Mysteriously jetted into the clear moonlight, or starlight, as the case might be; disappearing again for one whole day, or two days, or three; and somehow seeming at every distinct repetition to be advancing still further and further in our van, this solitary jet seemed for ever alluring us on.

Nor with the immemorial superstition of their race, and in accordance with the preternaturalness, as it seemed, which in many things invested the Pequod, were there wanting some of the seamen who swore that whenever and wherever descried; at however remote times, or in however far apart latitudes and longitudes, that unnearable spout was cast by one self-same whale; and that whale, Moby Dick. For a time, there reigned, too, a sense of peculiar dread at this flitting apparition, as if it were treacherously beckoning us on and on, in order that the monster might turn round upon us, and rend us at last in the remotest and most savage seas.

These temporary apprehensions, so vague but so awful, derived a wondrous potency from the contrasting serenity of the weather, in which, beneath all its blue blandness, some thought there lurked a devilish charm, as for days and days we voyaged along, through seas so wearily, lonesomely mild, that all space, in repugnance to our vengeful errand, seemed vacating itself of life before our urn-like prow.

But, at last, when turning to the eastward, the Cape winds began howling around us, and we rose and fell upon the long, troubled seas that are there; when the ivory-tusked Pequod sharply bowed to the blast, and gored the dark waves in her madness, till, like showers of silver chips, the foam-flakes flew over her bulwarks; then all this desolate vacuity of life went away, but gave place to sights more dismal than before.

Close to our bows, strange forms in the water darted hither and thither before us; while thick in our rear flew the inscrutable sea-ravens. And every morning, perched on our stays, rows of these birds were seen; and spite of our hootings, for a long time obstinately clung to the hemp, as though they deemed our ship some drifting, uninhabited craft; a thing appointed to desolation, and therefore fit roosting-place for their homeless selves. And heaved and heaved, still unrestingly heaved the black sea, as if its vast tides were a conscience; and the great mundane soul were in anguish and remorse for the long sin and suffering it had bred.

Cape of Good Hope, do they call ye? Rather Cape Tormentoto, as called of yore; for long allured by the perfidious silences that before had attended us, we found ourselves launched into this tormented sea, where guilty beings transformed into those fowls and these fish, seemed condemned to swim on everlastingly without any haven in store, or beat that black air without any horizon. But calm, snow-white, and unvarying; still directing its fountain of feathers to the sky; still beckoning us on from before, the solitary jet would at times be descried.

During all this blackness of the elements, Ahab, though assuming for the time the almost continual command of the drenched and dangerous deck, manifested the gloomiest reserve; and more seldom than ever addressed his mates. In tempestuous times like these, after everything above and aloft has been secured, nothing more can be done but passively to await the issue of the gale. Then Captain and crew become practical fatalists. So, with his ivory leg inserted into its accustomed hole, and with one hand firmly grasping a shroud, Ahab for hours and hours would stand gazing dead to windward, while an occasional squall of sleet or snow would all but congeal his very eyelashes together. Meantime, the crew driven from the forward part of the ship by the perilous seas that burstingly broke over its bows, stood in a line along the bulwarks in the waist; and the better to guard against the leaping waves, each man had slipped himself into a sort of bowline secured to the rail, in which he swung as in a loosened belt. Few or no words were spoken; and the silent ship, as if manned by painted sailors in wax, day after day tore on through all the swift madness and gladness of the demoniac waves. By night the same muteness of humanity before the shrieks of the ocean prevailed; still in silence the men swung in the bowlines; still wordless Ahab stood up to the blast. Even when wearied nature seemed demanding repose he would not seek that repose in his hammock. Never could Starbuck forget the old man's aspect, when one night going down into the cabin to mark how the barometer stood, he saw him with closed eyes sitting straight in his floor-screwed chair; the rain and half-melted sleet of the storm from which he had some time before emerged, still slowly dripping from the unremoved hat and coat. On the table beside him lay unrolled one of those charts of tides and currents which have previously been spoken of. His lantern swung from his tightly clenched hand. Though the body was erect, the head was thrown back so that the closed eyes were pointed towards the needle of the tell-tale that swung from a beam in the ceiling.[right-side]


The storm burst upon us six years ago now. As Mars approached opposition, Lavelle of Java set the wires of the astronomical exchange palpitating with the amazing intelligence of a huge outbreak of incandescent gas upon the planet. It had occurred towards midnight of the twelfth; and the spectroscope, to which he had at once resorted, indicated a mass of flaming gas, chiefly hydrogen, moving with an enormous velocity towards this earth. This jet of fire had become invisible about a quarter past twelve. He compared it to a colossal puff of flame suddenly and violently squirted out of the planet, "as flaming gases rushed out of a gun."

In spite of all that has happened since, I still remember that vigil very distinctly: the black and silent observatory, the shadowed lantern throwing a feeble glow upon the floor in the corner, the steady ticking of the clockwork of the telescope, the little slit in the roof--an oblong profundity with the stardust streaked across it. Ogilvy moved about, invisible but audible. Looking through the telescope, one saw a circle of deep blue and the little round planet swimming in the field. It seemed such a little thing, so bright and small and still, faintly marked with transverse stripes, and slightly flattened from the perfect round. But so little it was, so silvery warm--a pin's-head of light! It was as if it quivered, but really this was the telescope vibrating with the activity of the clockwork that kept the planet in view.

As I watched, the planet seemed to grow larger and smaller and to advance and recede, but that was simply that my eye was tired. Forty millions of miles it was from us--more than forty millions of miles of void. Few people realise the immensity of vacancy in which the dust of the material universe swims.

Near it in the field, I remember, were three faint points of light, three telescopic stars infinitely remote, and all around it was the unfathomable darkness of empty space. You know how that blackness looks on a frosty starlight night. In a telescope it seems far profounder. And invisible to me because it was so remote and small, flying swiftly and steadily towards me across that incredible distance, drawing nearer every minute by so many thousands of miles, came the Thing they were sending us, the Thing that was to bring so much struggle and calamity and death to the earth. I never dreamed of it then as I watched; no one on earth dreamed of that unerring missile.

That night, too, there was another jetting out of gas from the distant planet. I saw it. A reddish flash at the edge, the slightest projection of the outline just as the chronometer struck midnight; and at that I told Ogilvy and he took my place. The night was warm and I was thirsty, and I went stretching my legs clumsily and feeling my way in the darkness, to the little table where the siphon stood, while Ogilvy exclaimed at the streamer of gas that came out towards us.

That night another invisible missile started on its way to the earth from Mars, just a second or so under twenty-four hours after the first one. I remember how I sat on the table there in the blackness, with patches of green and crimson swimming before my eyes. I wished I had a light to smoke by, little suspecting the meaning of the minute gleam I had seen and all that it would presently bring me. Ogilvy watched till one, and then gave it up; and we lit the lantern and walked over to his house. Down below in the darkness were Ottershaw and Chertsey and all their hundreds of people, sleeping in peace.

"An' you ain't never seen bad luck," Edwin concluded triumphantly. "You're just as bad as Granser and his germs. You believe in what you don't see. Go on, Granser."
He was full of speculation that night about the condition of Mars, and scoffed at the vulgar idea of its having inhabitants who were signalling us. His idea was that meteorites might be falling in a heavy shower upon the planet, or that a huge volcanic explosion was in progress. He pointed out to me how unlikely it was that organic evolution had taken the same direction in the two adjacent planets.
"The chances against anything manlike on Mars are a million to one," he said.

Hundreds of observers saw the flame that night and the night after about midnight, and again the night after; and so for ten nights, a flame each night. Why the shots ceased after the tenth no one on earth has attempted to explain. It may be the gases of the firing caused the Martians inconvenience. Dense clouds of smoke or dust, visible through a powerful telescope on earth as little grey, fluctuating patches, spread through the clearness of the planet's atmosphere and obscured its more familiar features.

Returning to the Spouter-Inn from the Chapel, I found Queequeg there quite alone; he having left the Chapel before the benediction some time. He was sitting on a bench before the fire, with his feet on the stove hearth, and in one hand was holding close up to his face that little negro idol of his; peering hard into its face, and with a jack-knife gently whittling away at its nose, meanwhile humming to himself in his heathenish way.

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But being now interrupted, he put up the image; and pretty soon, going to the table, took up a large book there, and placing it on his lap began counting the pages with deliberate regularity; at every fiftieth page—as I fancied—stopping a moment, looking vacantly around him, and giving utterance to a long-drawn gurgling whistle of astonishment. He would then begin again at the next fifty; seeming to commence at number one each time, as though he could not count more than fifty, and it was only by such a large number of fifties being found together, that his astonishment at the multitude of pages was excited.

With much interest I sat watching him. Savage though he was, and hideously marred about the face—at least to my taste—his countenance yet had a something in it which was by no means disagreeable. You cannot hide the soul. Through all his unearthly tattooings, I thought I saw the traces of a simple honest heart; and in his large, deep eyes, fiery black and bold, there seemed tokens of a spirit that would dare a thousand devils. And besides all this, there was a certain lofty bearing about the Pagan, which even his uncouthness could not altogether maim. He looked like a man who had never cringed and never had had a creditor. Whether it was, too, that his head being shaved, his forehead was drawn out in freer and brighter relief, and looked more expansive than it otherwise would, this I will not venture to decide; but certain it was his head was phrenologically an excellent one. It may seem ridiculous, but it reminded me of General Washington's head, as seen in the popular busts of him. It had the same long regularly graded retreating slope from above the brows, which were likewise very projecting, like two long promontories thickly wooded on top. Queequeg was George Washington cannibalistically developed.

Whilst I was thus closely scanning him, half-pretending meanwhile to be looking out at the storm from the casement, he never heeded my presence, never troubled himself with so much as a single glance; but appeared wholly occupied with counting the pages of the marvellous book. Considering how sociably we had been sleeping together the night previous, and especially considering the affectionate arm I had found thrown over me upon waking in the morning, I thought this indifference of his very strange. But savages are strange beings; at times you do not know exactly how to take them. At first they are overawing; their calm self-collectedness of simplicity seems a Socratic wisdom. I had noticed also that Queequeg never consorted at all, or but very little, with the other seamen in the inn. He made no advances whatever; appeared to have no desire to enlarge the circle of his acquaintances. All this struck me as mighty singular; yet, upon second thoughts, there was something almost sublime in it. Here was a man some twenty thousand miles from home, by the way of Cape Horn, that is—which was the only way he could get there—thrown among people as strange to him as though he were in the planet Jupiter; and yet he seemed entirely at his ease; preserving the utmost serenity; content with his own companionship; always equal to himself. Surely this was a touch of fine philosophy; though no doubt he had never heard there was such a thing as that. But, perhaps, to be true philosophers, we mortals should not be conscious of so living or so striving. So soon as I hear that such or such a man gives himself out for a philosopher, I conclude that, like the dyspeptic old woman, he must have "broken his digester."

As I sat there in that now lonely room; the fire burning low, in that mild stage when, after its first intensity has warmed the air, it then only glows to be looked at; the evening shades and phantoms gathering round the casements, and peering in upon us silent, solitary twain; the storm booming without in solemn swells; I began to be sensible of strange feelings. I felt a melting in me. No more my splintered heart and maddened hand were turned against the wolfish world. This soothing savage had redeemed it. There he sat, his very indifference speaking a nature in which there lurked no civilized hypocrisies and bland deceits. Wild he was; a very sight of sights to see; yet I began to feel myself mysteriously drawn towards him. And those same things that would have repelled most others, they were the very magnets that thus drew me. I'll try a pagan friend, thought I, since Christian kindness has proved but hollow courtesy. I drew my bench near him, and made some friendly signs and hints, doing my best to talk with him meanwhile. At first he little noticed these advances; but presently, upon my referring to his last night's hospitalities, he made out to ask me whether we were again to be bedfellows. I told him yes; whereat I thought he looked pleased, perhaps a little complimented.

At the period of our arrival at the Island, the heaviest storage of the Pequod had been almost completed; comprising her beef, bread, water, fuel, and iron hoops and staves. But, as before hinted, for some time there was a continual fetching and carrying on board of divers odds and ends of things, both large and small.

Chief among those who did this fetching and carrying was Captain Bildad's sister, a lean old lady of a most determined and indefatigable spirit, but withal very kindhearted, who seemed resolved that, if SHE could help it, nothing should be found wanting in the Pequod, after once fairly getting to sea. At one time she would come on board with a jar of pickles for the steward's pantry; another time with a bunch of quills for the chief mate's desk, where he kept his log; a third time with a roll of flannel for the small of some one's rheumatic back. Never did any woman better deserve her name, which was Charity—Aunt Charity, as everybody called her. And like a sister of charity did this charitable Aunt Charity bustle about hither and thither, ready to turn her hand and heart to anything that promised to yield safety, comfort, and consolation to all on board a ship in which her beloved brother Bildad was concerned, and in which she herself owned a score or two of well-saved dollars.

But it was startling to see this excellent hearted Quakeress coming on board, as she did the last day, with a long oil-ladle in one hand, and a still longer whaling lance in the other. Nor was Bildad himself nor Captain Peleg at all backward. As for Bildad, he carried about with him a long list of the articles needed, and at every fresh arrival, down went his mark opposite that article upon the paper. Every once in a while Peleg came hobbling out of his whalebone den, roaring at the men down the hatchways, roaring up to the riggers at the mast-head, and then concluded by roaring back into his wigwam.

During these days of preparation, Queequeg and I often visited the craft, and as often I asked about Captain Ahab, and how he was, and when he was going to come on board his ship. To these questions they would answer, that he was getting better and better, and was expected aboard every day; meantime, the two captains, Peleg and Bildad, could attend to everything necessary to fit the vessel for the voyage. If I had been downright honest with myself, I would have seen very plainly in my heart that I did but half fancy being committed this way to so long a voyage, without once laying my eyes on the man who was to be the absolute dictator of it, so soon as the ship sailed out upon the open sea. But when a man suspects any wrong, it sometimes happens that if he be already involved in the matter, he insensibly strives to cover up his suspicions even from himself. And much this way it was with me. I said nothing, and tried to think nothing.

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